Monday, June 16, 2014

Feature writer, Melody Muse, keeps up with singers and musicians on the road.

Hey…all you L&L fans! I recently covered the acts of the Oklahoma State Fair and caught up with none other than Joe King, who is rumored to be parting ways with his agent/manager Andrue Holecomb, former partner to the man behind TBK, as some say, Marty Frost. Marty hasn’t been seen in a long while.; Athough that’s another rumor entirely, I hear his health has declined; and he’s pretty much a recluse in his California-mansion-built-by-Kings. Maybe someday, I’ll be over there and can check in with Mr. Frost to scoop some poop for you...my dear readers.

According to their website (which seems to be managed by Holecomb’s staff), The Brothers King have been playing a few state fairs. But I happen to know that TBK--or at least the sibling part of it--have played a few small venues for the last couple months…places I guess we can call their “stompin’ grounds.” Sources who shall remain nameless tell me they’re playin’ for the bread and butter that Holecomb’s been holding out. I hear the parting of their ways has been pretty intense…to say the least.

But, hey…that’s all just scooped poop…RIGHT?

Joe King was backstage and gave me a couple minutes, so here’s: Melody Muse’s The Poop, The Scoop, and The Coda ‘fore The Road-uh.

Melody Muse: Hey, Joe! Got a couple minutes to scoop the poop?

Joe King: I always have time for you, Mel! Thanks!

MM: Rumor [and the TBK website! -mm] has it that your musical career is about to be behind you…any truth?

JK: Nah, man. I’m just shifting gears. This was the last gig I was contractually obligated to do…so now I’m finally free of the baggage of the man who held the helm and wrote the checks. We’ll be taking a break, but the fans seem to remember us, so we’ll be back…sometime…somehow. Don’t count us out, yet. God willing…anyways. [He’s just got the greatest grin! -mm]

MM: So, what are you doing?

JK: Doin’ another movie. Marty lined this up a while back…God bless ‘im. He’s always been good to us…and we miss him more than words can say. I hope he’s feeling better soon. This one’s a western…so I’m heading to South Dakota tomorrow as part of an ensemble cast. I get to shoot guns and ride horses…so that’s not a bad way to earn a paycheck! I’m lookin’ forward to it.

MM: And Chuck?

JK: I guess you’ll need to ask him. He always lands on his feet…like the alley tom-cat he is…heh. He’s around here somewhere…you should go talk to him.

MM: I heard about his accident…he’s okay? And have ya got time for one more?

JK: Shoot! And yeah—he’ll recover...he's teflon.

MM: I hear you’re keepin’ company with a certain redhead…anything serious? Are you about to break some hearts, Joe?

JK: Well…

MM: Oh no! You just crossed your arms! [He’s laughing…and looking at his shoes or over his shoulder…like he’s in trouble, folks! I think I hit a nerve! -mm]

JK: Huh…well, man. I guess I should answer that with ‘I don’t kiss and tell, Mel.’ [Ah! A Joe King blue-eyed wink! I’m melting! -mm] Let’s just say that I met the sweetest woman in the world…with a heart as big as the sky…and the right-sized chariot at just the right time. Who knows where the road leads…right? Ya won’t know ‘til ya get there. I mean…I ain’t dead…yet. Right?

Wow! And there ya have it. Joe is such a down-to-earth guy. So easy on the eyes and [when he’s not ranting…as I’ve heard he’s been doing a lot of that lately,] so nice to talk to. And while you couldn’t see it…dear reader…that was a mighty big grin on his face…talking about Ms. Red. Well…that’s it for now. I might just have to follow that long line of ‘the guitargod’ Chuckles-Chickies and scoop the poop a little more!

Friday, April 4, 2014

by DiDi Hendley

Just as his small fingers reached his prize in the bowl, he glanced around the room. He was still alone. He snatched the mushy blue-grey ball swiftly and turned to find a hiding place to devour it...his prize...alone. He smiled at the thought of not having to share it with anybody else. As he stepped off the box that lifted him to the prize, the flaps broke. He fell into the broken box, and his prize landed several feet away.

His mother ran into the room. She frowned at the broken ball and the beige ooze splattered across the floor. Her face wore her disappointment for the tiny lad, crumpled within the broken cardboard.

His eyes reflected a mix of apology and disappointment.

"I told you to leave it alone," she said, crossing the floor to her toddler.

"I'm hungry."

"I guess we found it too late. It's already turned, so it would've tasted bad," she sat cross-legged beside him and leaned against the cabinet door.

She held his hand as he climbed out of the box and snuggled in her lap. She could hear the grumbling complaints of his stomach, and hugged him tightly. She gathered and flattened the broken box with her right hand as she hugged him and stroked his arm with her left. A pecan escaped the folds of the box and rolled toward her, as if a gift from God. In disbelief, they looked at each other, then the nut. She snatched it in her hand, and he wriggled in her lap to get a better look. With a swift clinch, the nut cracked in her palm. She brought her hand to her nose and smelled, then smiled. She waved it across his nose, and the scent of the meat inside wafted across his face. He smiled.

She held the broken nut in her palm, picked out the broken shell, and piled them beside her on the floor. She picked out the largest piece and placed it in his dirty hand.

He devoured it with urgency.

She smiled as she picked another large piece from the opposing side, leaving crumbs and bitter behind. She held it up; and when he tried to grab it, she pulled it away.

"Slow down this time. There aren't any more."

He nodded, and gently took the nut from her fingers. Her stomach barked in protest. He looked at it, guilt on his face. His eyes teared as he looked into hers.

She shook her head and pushed the nut to his lips.

He looked at it with regret and took a nibble. He held the rest to her mouth.

She smiled, eyes brimming with tears. "Yours." She pushed it toward his hungry mouth as he savored his first bite. He reluctantly obliged, and lay his head on her chest as he slowly chewed.

She picked the last crumbs of the meat from the nut with her fingertip and placed them on her tongue. She nibbled at them with her front teeth and sighed.

"Mom?"

She cuddled him, "Yes, son?"

"Why do they call it orange?"

They both glanced at the blue-gray ball with beige ooze splattered on the floor.

"Son, when your grandma was a girl, they were orange. Then scientist believed they could genetically alter them. The government said it was okay. So now…"

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About Me

After a couple decades as an I.T. geek, I followed an epiphany to a creative life and wound up an author, artist and photographer. I'm following my muse down many roads and loving the view. There's plenty of room for you. Get in, buckle up and let's go!